MURDER BRIEF

by Mark Dryden

  Rex spoke with a raspy voice. "Yes, that’s true. We’d started to argue a lot. That was one of the reasons I spent a lot of time down at the beach-house."

  Brian said: "What about the domestic disturbance, six weeks before your wife died? Tell the Court what happened."

  Rex described how, during an argument, his wife attacked him and he pushed her away. She fell and hit her head. Looking upset, he said: "I’m very ashamed of that. It shouldn’t have happened."

  "And after that, you agreed to divorce your wife?"

  "Yes."

  "Now, when the police interviewed you, you lied about where you were on the night of the murder, didn’t you?"

  "Yes, I did."

  "Why?"

  "I was afraid."

  "Afraid of what?"

  "That I’d be charged with murder."

  "Why were you afraid of that?"

  "Because my wife and I had a bad marriage. Maybe, because I’m a novelist, I’ve got an over-active imagination. But I panicked and lied. I didn’t want the police to know I was in Sydney on the night of the murder."

  "But you were in Sydney?"

  "Yes."

  "Who with?"

  "I had dinner with my literary agent, Hugh Grimble."

  "Where?"

  "At his house, in Watson’s Bay."

  "When you drove up to Sydney, why didn’t you drop in and see your wife?"

  A strained smile. "We would have ended up arguing. Frankly, the main reason I went down to the beach-house was to get away from my wife. So there was no point going to see her."

  Brian looked up at the judge. "No further questions your Honour."

  The judge looked at the prosecutor. "Mr Mahoney, any questions?"

  Mahoney leapt to his feet and went on the attack, focusing on the bitterness between the Markhams, their violent altercation six weeks before her death and Rex Markham’s big fib to the Homicide detectives about his whereabouts. However, because Rex had already given evidence-in-chief about those matters, the cross-examination was less effective than it might have been. Rex also remained fairly composed. When accused of lying to the police, he didn’t duck or weave. He boldly admitted that he had, out of fear.

  Brian noted that the Pope’s Prosecutor was not a subtle cross-examiner. He rarely tried to lay snares for witnesses or lull them into a false sense of security. Rather, he hurled blunt accusations and greeted denials with scowls, snorts and sneers. Brian lost count of how many times he warned Rex that he was on oath, as if perjury was a worse crime than murder.

  Mahoney’s best moments came when questioning Rex about his bond with Hugh Grimble. "You have a business relationship?"

  "Yes."

  "And he’s a close friend?"

  That was obviously true, so Brian prayed Rex wouldn’t try to lie or equivocate.

  Rex said: "Yes, he’s definitely a close friend."

  Brian loved clients with the brains to admit unpalatable facts instead of dig deeper holes for themselves.

  Mahoney said: "And when the police discovered you were in Sydney, you cooked up an alibi with Hugh Grimble, didn’t you?"

  "No, that’s not true."

  "You turned to him because he’s a close friend?"

  "No."

  "And you concocted the alibi together?"

  "No."

  "In fact, you didn’t see Hugh Grimble on the night your wife was murdered, did you?"

  Rex scowled. "Yes I did. I had dinner with him."

  "No you didn’t. In fact, you drove up to Sydney, bought some petrol, then went home and murdered your wife, didn’t you?"

  Rex looked like he’d been slapped. He half-rose from his chair. "No, I didn’t. I did not. That’s a lie."

  Mahoney was now almost yelling. "You murdered her out of bitterness and spite, didn’t you?"

  "No. We had an unhappy marriage. I admit that. But I didn’t want her dead. I definitely didn’t want that."

  "You’re a novelist, right?"

  Rex looked puzzled. "Yes."

  "A successful novelist?"

  "I’ve sold a lot of books."

  "So your job is to make up stories?"

  Rex shrugged. "Yes, I suppose so."

  Mahoney jabbed a finger at him. "And you’re good at making up stories?"

  "I hope so."

  Brian leaned over to Robyn. "Christ. Now he’s a literary critic."

  Robyn had to stifle a titter.

  Mahoney said: "And you’ve made up this story about visiting Hugh Grimble, haven’t you?"

  "No. It’s true."

  "Even though you’re a novelist?"

  Rex looked nonplused. "Just because I’m a novelist doesn’t make me a liar. I mean, I don’t swear an oath before I sit down in front of my computer, do I?"

  The courtroom rocked with laughter.

  Brian whispered. "Touché."

  Even Mahoney looked a little embarrassed to receive such a huge back-hander. And, to make it even worse, it came right at the end of his cross-examination, because he turned to the judge and said he had no further questions.

  Justice Dobell looked at Brian. "Any re-examination, Mr Davis?"

  Re-examining a witness to clarify answers was always dangerous, because the witness could easily deepen the hole he’d dug for himself. Brian said: "No, your Honour."

  Justice Dobell turned to Rex and told him to return to the dock.

  As Rex left the witness box, Brian reflected that his client had played a weak hand very well. Indeed, Brian felt a glimmer of hope. For the first time, he started to believe, truly believe, he just might pull off the biggest win of his career - the one that made him the pre-eminent criminal silk in Sydney, if not the country. Everything now depended on Hugh Grimble. Pray God he didn’t get a mauling.

  Robyn whispered: "I think he did rather well."

  "So do I."

  Justice Dobell asked Brian to call his next witness. Brian rose and called Hugh Grimble.

  Bernie Roberts quickly slipped out through a side door and returned with Grimble in tow. Brian noticed the literary agent had ignored his request to ditch his polka-dot bowtie. Arrogant bastard.

  Grimble confidently strode to the witness box and took the oath. Then Brian commenced his examination-in-chief. "Alice Markham worked for your firm, Grimble & Co, didn’t she?"

  "Yes, for about ten years."

  "And when was the last time you saw her?"

  Grimble frowned. "Actually, I’m not too sure. I suppose it was on Friday, the day before she died. I can’t remember exactly when."

  "OK. Now, what did you do on the night of the murder - the Saturday night?"

  "I had dinner with Rex."

  "How did that come about?"

  Grimble explain how Rex Markham telephoned him from his beach-house and suggested they dine on Saturday night.

  "Did he say why he wanted to have dinner with you?"

  Grimble smiled. "Yes. He said, quote: ‘I’m bored shitless down here’."

  Several titters floated out of the jury box.

  "What did you say?"

  "I told him to come up and I’d cook him a meal."

  "And that’s what happened?"

  "Yes. Rex arrived at about seven-thirty and left at about eleven."

  "When he left, did he say where he was going?"

  "Yes. He said he was heading back down to the beach-house."

  Brian said he had no further questions and sat down.

  Justice Dobell looked at Mahoney: "Any questions, Mr Prosecutor?"

  Mahoney rose and glared at the witness as if he wanted to chew his leg off. "Mr Grimble, you’ve been the accused’s literary agent for many years, haven’t you?"

  "Yes. About fifteen."

  "So you’re very close to him?"

  "Yes, I like to think so."

  "And you say the accused arrived at your house at about seven-thirty and left at about eleven o’clock, don’t you?"

  "Yes."

  "And you’re aware, ar
en’t you, that if the accused was with you during that period, he has a perfect alibi? He couldn’t have murdered his wife?"

  "Yes, so I understand."

  "And you’re aware, aren’t you, that when the accused gave his first interview to the police, he didn’t mention being at your house?"

  "So I understand."

  "And you certainly didn’t approach the police and tell them he was wrong, did you?"

  "Umm, no."

  "And after he changed his story, and said he was at your house, you declined a police request for an interview, didn’t you?"

  "Ah, yes."

  "Why?"

  Grimble waved his arm flippantly. "Oh, I didn’t see much point. I mean, by then they’d charged Rex with murder and, I suppose, I didn’t want to get involved."

  Mahoney looked contemptuous. "Didn’t want to get involved, even though your client - your good friend - had been charged with murder?"

  Grimble shrugged. "Maybe I was wrong. But the police obviously weren’t going to change their minds, so there was no point talking to them."

  "In fact, you and Rex Markham have concocted this alibi, haven’t you?"

  Grimble flushed. "No, certainly not."

  The Pope’s Prosecutor leaned close to Brian and whispered malevolently: "Time to shake my sleeve."

  Brian felt a tremor of fear. Mahoney obviously had a nasty surprise in store and there was nothing Brian could do.

  Mahoney turned back towards the witness. "Alright. You own a mobile phone, don’t you, Mr Grimble?"

  "Yes, of course."

  Mahoney picked up his pad and read from it. "Number 0044 286 787?"

  "Could you read that out again?"

  Mahoney repeated the number.

  "Yes, that’s it."

  "And you used your mobile phone on the night of the murder, didn’t you?"

  Grimble’s face reddened. "Did I? I can’t recall."

  "Yes you did, Mr Grimble. According to your telephone records, you used it at 8.35pm."

  Grimble trembled slightly. "I’ll take your word for it."

  "Yes, and when you used it, you weren’t at home, were you?"

  Brian realized the defence case was hurtling towards an abyss. Trying to look relaxed, he leaned towards Robyn and whispered. "Oh, fuck."

  Grimble said: "Are you sure? I think I was."

  Mahoney said: "No, Mr Grimble, you weren’t. I’ll be calling evidence from your telephone company to show you were nowhere near Watson’s Bay when you made that call. In fact, you were in the city centre, weren’t you?"

  Grimble shifted uncomfortably in his seat and tugged at his collar. "Umm, no, I was at home."

  Mahoney’s voice became shrill. "I put it to you again: you were in the city centre, weren’t you?"

  "No, I wasn’t."

  Brian wanted to put his head in his hands and scream. Instead, he kept a poker face and doodled on his pad. Only immense self-control stopped his eyeballs rotating towards the jury box.

  Mahoney said: "Oh, come on, Mr Grimble. You weren’t at home at 8.35pm when you made that phone call, were you? So you didn’t have dinner with the accused, did you?"

  Grimble licked quivering lips. Brian had seen plenty of witnesses crack and Grimble wasn’t far away.

  Grimble’s shoulders slumped and his voice slurred. "I don’t know. I don’t know. It’s such a long time ago."

  "Oh, so now you’re not sure whether you dined with Rex Markham that Saturday night?"

  Grimble vigorously rubbed his temples. "I suppose I’m not sure. Maybe I got confused. I don’t know. It’s such a long time ago."

  "So you’re not sure?" Mahoney insisted.

  Looking defeated, Grimble whispered. "That’s true. I’m not sure. Maybe I had dinner with Rex on a different night."

  Mahoney looked like a tenor who’d just nailed a couple of High Cs. "In fact, you’ve been lying to this court, haven’t you?"

  "No, I haven’t."

  Mahoney screamed triumphantly. "You’ve been lying?"

  Grimble paused for a long time while the court throbbed with tension. His shoulders slumped again and he spoke softly. "No, I wasn’t lying. I just got confused, that’s all. I got confused."

  The Mad Monk grinned ecstatically at the jurors, just in case they didn’t get the message.

  Brian maintained a straight face while continuing to doodle on his pad, as if he'd never heard such boring evidence. But he whispered to Robyn. "You can toe-tag this one. It’s all over."

  Fortunately, the judge glanced at the clock on the wall, which showed 4pm. "I note the time, Mr Prosecutor. Will you be much longer?"

  Mahoney glowed with self-love. "Probably only another ten or fifteen minutes, your Honour."

  "Alright then, I’ll adjourn until tomorrow morning. You can continue your cross-examination then."

  "Thank you, your Honour."

  The judge gave the witness a lofty stare. "Mr Grimble, you’ll have to return here tomorrow morning and continue your evidence."

  Grimble looked like he’d rather jump off a cliff, but nodded glumly. "Yes, your Honour."

  "Good. And just remember, you must not discuss your evidence with anyone between now and then. No-one. Do you understand?"

  "Yes."

  "Right. Then, we’ll resume at ten o’clock tomorrow morning." The judge looked at the jurors. "Members of the jury, I’ll see you then."

  The Court Officer stood and bellowed: "All rise."

  As the judge left the bench, Robyn leaned close to Brian. "That didn’t go well."

  "A fucking disaster."

  Grimble left the witness box and scuttled away, deliberately ignoring the defence team.

  Brian turned and looked at the ashen features of their client. A Sheriff’s Officer pushed Rex towards the steps leading down to the holding cells.

  Brian said: "We’ll see you downstairs."

  Rex nodded mechanically and disappeared.

  Brian turned back to Robyn. "You know, to win this one, we always needed a big slice of luck. Now we need an outrageous miracle."

  Brian led his junior and solicitor down to the holding cells, where they found their client sitting in a small interview room, head in hands, shoulders quivering.

  Brian had kept his emotions in check. Now he yanked off his horsehair wig and threw it against a wall. It bounced off and fluttered to the floor like a shot bird.

  He glared at Rex. "Christ. What the fuck were you thinking when you cooked up that false alibi with Grimble? What the fuck were you fucking well thinking?"

  Rex licked his lips and spoke in a cracked voice. "I was thinking that I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life in prison. That’s what I was thinking."

  "Well, let me tell you, you’ve made sure that’s exactly where you’ll reside for many decades to come. So who came up with the idea? You or Grimble?"

  Rex’s shoulders slumped and his voice was colourless. "I suppose he did. I mean, when the cops found out I was in Sydney on the night Alice got murdered, he said I needed an alibi."

  "And he offered to give you one?"

  "Yes."

  "Jesus. What a pair of dumbshits. And I suppose Grimble didn’t mention he was cruising around Sydney that night, squawking on his mobile phone?"

  Rex gasped for air. Words emerged in bunches. "No, he didn’t. But I didn’t kill my wife. I know I’ve told lies. But I was scared - scared. I didn’t kill Alice. I didn’t."

  "Then what were you doing in Sydney that night?"

  "If you really want to know, I came up to see a movie."

  Brian looked incredulous. "A movie? By yourself?"

  "Yes. Why not? I needed to get away from the beach-house, so I came up and saw a movie. I could get back in the witness box and say that."

  "Yes, you could. But I’m afraid nobody will believe you. Not now."

  "So you don’t want me to give any more evidence?"

  "No. You’ve given enough."

  "Then what are you going to do?"<
br />
  "I’m going home to have a couple of stiff drinks. Maybe after that, I’ll think of something. But I doubt it."

  Bernie interjected. "Maybe Rex should consider entering a plea of guilty."

  Brian said: "Yes, he definitely should. But there are two problems with entering a plea."

  "What?"

  "The first is that Rex still claims he’s innocent. If he wants to plead guilty, he’s got to instruct us that he is, in fact, guilty." Brian turned to Rex. "You understand that?"

  Rex nodded. "Yes. But I’m not guilty. I’m not."

  "Exactly. The other problem is that, even if he changes his plea, he won’t get much leniency. He’s left it too late in the day for that."

  Rex’s face sagged. "Oh."

  Brian sighed deeply. "You think about your options overnight and we’ll have a chat in the morning, OK?"

  "OK."

  On that note, the lawyers trooped out.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Robyn had just started to truly believe Rex Markham would be acquitted when Hugh Grimble got hammered in the witness box and the alibi defence turned to dust. Now Rex looked doomed.

  That was bad news for him. But it was also bad news for her, because she’d been determined to make a big impression at the trial. Soon she’d be back in the Local Court, defending petty criminals, wistfully pondering what might have been. If she was lucky, in a few years, she’d graduate to representing child molesters and low-level drug dealers in the District Court. But she’d probably never get another murder brief in the Supreme Court.

  While Grimble’s credibility was being shredded, she wore a mask of indifference. However, after court, she enjoyed watching Brian’s angry outburst at their client. She felt like throttling the bastard herself.

  As the defence team left the old Supreme Court building, it was already dark. The media pack had scattered to meet their deadlines.

  Bernie looked glumly at Brian. "So, do you believe his story about going to a movie?"

  Brian shook his head. "Nope. Sounds like more bullshit to me. I’m sure the jury won’t swallow it. Not now."

  Bernie shrugged. "Oh, well. We tried our best. Anything you want me to do before tomorrow morning?"

  Brian shook his head. "No. Just try to get a good night’s sleep."

  "Hah. No chance of that. Well, see you tomorrow morning."

  Bernie departed and the two barristers strolled towards their chambers.